


After the End: A Collection of Snippets

by koalathebear



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4226109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I loved the movie and the ending was beautiful ... but felt so sad that Max left so this is my take on what happens after they return to to the Citadel.  It's a collection of snippets - some of them prompted by the Mad Max Kink Meme.</p><p>One of the most annoying things about trying to write post-movie fic is that you have to establish quite laboriously what happened after the movie in every single fic you do - even if's just a short prompt fic.  So my way around this is that the first three chapters are 'foundation' chapters that basically outline what happens at the Citadel after the movie.  After that, I can write shorter prompt fills that will be based on the foundations I've already outlined in the first three chapters e.g. that the names of the surviving Vuvalini are the Mother and Sal etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return to the Citadel

_Out here everything hurts …_

Literally.

Her own words come back to haunt her … taunt her even with their truth. Furiosa has known physical pain before – has endured agony and indescribable suffering but this is different. The pain in her side is excruciating … she can hear the gasping, laboured sound of someone trying to breathe … It's the sound of a woman who is about to die.

"Why is she making that noise?" she can hear Cheedo ask, fear in her voice.

If she could speak, she would tell her that it was because her lung's collapsed and breathing has become almost impossible. Instead, all she can do is lie there, the death rattle that passes as breathing is terrifying her. Her eyes are closed but she knows he's there. Him. The man without a name whose face she knows better than her own … his slow, laconic speech patterns and his calm, grim gaze. He is cupping her face with such gentleness that she knows she must be dying.

"I'm so sorry," he tells her fervently before she feels another agonising stab of sharpness into her side. She stiffens in shock but her breathing comes easier despite the pain and the panic starts to subside slowly. She breathes ... in and out … but staying conscious continues to be an effort. 

"Hold it here. All right. Hold that on there. Press it in …" he orders the others.

He grips her with his strong hands. "Hey .. hey … " he tells her gently.

Her eyes flutter for a moment as she stares into his worried face, lips moving as she tries to tell him something. She doesn't know what she's trying to say, only that she doesn't want to die like this and she finds herself whispering what's in heart heart. "Home. You didn’t get them…home…"

Her eyes close and she slumps in his arms, too tired to remain awake and he touches his forehead for the briefest of seconds against hers as if willing her to stay with him.

Although her eyes are closed, she is conscious and she can hear everything around her. Feel the smoothness of the vehicle as it drives across the sand, hear the urgency in his voice. "No, no, no, no…"

"She’s exsanguinated. Drained all the blood," Sal murmurs.

"Sorry," he murmurs before she feels a sting in her right arm. She hears him giving instructions in his decisive way. "Uh…hold this. I need that, thank you. Needle…"

"Come on…"

"Take this. Keep her awake," he orders.

"Furiosa," she hears one of them murmur anxiously … It's Capable, her voice gentle and sad.  
"  
OK, that’s not retracting. All right, hold it up, hold it up," the man orders and she turns her head for a moment, a flicker of her eyelids and she can see that he is transfusing his own blood into her with the help of the Dag.

She imagines that she can feel his blood sliding into her…reviving her …

"All right. It’s all right. There you go. OK. There you go…" he mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.

Her eyes remain closed as he cups her face again, his fingers almost impossibly gentle and kind as they touch her skin. She can sense the worry in him. "Max … my name is Max," he tells her as if this revelation may be enough to keep her in this life … to keep her interested enough to continue living. He reaches down to touch her forehead. "That's my name …" he tells her, his eyes grave and pleading with her to stay.

*

_You know, hope is a mistake. If you can't fix what's broken, you'll go insane._

His own words come back to haunt him… taunt him even with their truth. The women turn away to stare fixedly out at the endless desert as if to give him a measure of privacy to sit there with Furiosa's unconscious body cradled in his arms. They pretend not to see the expression on his face, the fear and the sorrow.

Furiosa's face and body are battered and bruised, her blood drying on her skin. He touches his hand to her chest through the fabric of her shirt to feel the weak thud of her heartbeat. Now and then he places his fingertips against her slender wrist, feeling for her pulse, breathing an incoherent prayer to a God in which he no longer believes. She is closer to death than life and he watches his blood sliding into her, praying that it is enough to keep her in this world.

Her pulse is weak and irregular but it is there, thumping through her skin and restoring her strength. At first when Sal moves to take the needle from his arm, he tries to stop her.

"No," he protests firmly, his voice more of a grunt than human speech.

"You'll be no good to anyone – to us, to you – to _her_ if you die from blood loss, son," she tells him firmly and her fingers close around the needle deliberately. "What if we're attacked and you're weak and in no condition to fight?" she demands of him pragmatically.

He stares at her for a long moment and then he takes his hand away reluctantly, his face expressionless at the sting from the needle being slid from his arm. He endures the ministrations of Toast as she cleans up the puncture mark and staunches the blood flow. He watches as Sal bandages Furiosa's arm.

"She will live – thanks to you," she tells him with a smile in her eyes and he says nothing, sinking back into the silence that has been his companion during his time in the Wilderness.

Glancing around he sees the women looking away again quickly. He leans down and lifts Furiosa back into his arms, cradled against his chest so that he can hear her breathe.

"Max," she whispers hoarsely and he nods. His arms tighten around her but careful, so as not to hurt her. "You've saved them," he tells her. 

"Not all of them," she whispers with regret and sorrow in her voice and he presses his lips to the top of her head and in a low voice starts talking to her. His words are halting. It has been many years since he has spoken full sentences and the cadence of a sentence no longer comes to him easily but he knows she is listening and so he persists.

*

When they arrive at the Citadel, it is Max who stands out front first and Max who displays Immortan Joe's decaying corpse to his former subjects. Max's strength allows her to push herself into a standing position. He does not hold her up but he's there to catch her if she falls. As Furiosa, the Wives, the Mother and Sal are lifted upwards into the Citadel, Furiosa turns and glances down and with a slight pang sees that Max is standing on the ground amidst the Wretched looking up at her. 

He gives her a nod of acknowledgment, regret and farewell in his eyes. She inclines her head and then he's gone, swallowed up by the crowd. 

*

"There was a saying back in the day – men are bastards," the Mother mutters, stabbing a finger against Max's chest when she comes across him, still camped out at the base of the Citadel amongst the Wretched. She has come down to walk amongst them, tend to their wounds and assist where she can.

Max looks at her, deeply offended but doesn't try to protest the insult. Living amongst the Wretched, he has heard talk of the promise of hope – that with Immortan Joe's death, there is a new chance at life for the hundreds that mill at the base of the Citadel.

"Furiosa?" he asks her.

"Still weak," she tells him, her wrinkled face even more creased with her disapproving scowl.

"Does she need more blood?" he asks her directly, his eyes concerned.

"That why you're still hanging around here like a bad smell?" she demands. He says nothing and his silence is her answer.

"She's still weak as a newborn and you've abandoned her."

"I'm here aren't I?"

"Fat lot of good you're doing down here," the Mother retorts and he glares at her.


	2. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about how on the one hand Immortan Joe's lies to the War Boys allowed him to manipulate him but on the other hand, they provided a form of hope ... twisted I know.

"I thought you'd left," Furiosa whispers, her voice cutting through the darkness of her chambers. Her room, carved out of the rock towers that formed the Citadel is black, the lights extinguished for night but when a nightmare pulls her out of sleep, the scream dies in her throat as she stares up into his familiar face.

He's gripping her by the shoulders and releases her when he realises that she's awake. He doesn't answer her unspoken question.

"How long have you been sitting there?" she asks.

"A while. Mother let me in," he tells her, before she can ask him another question.

She struggles to sit up but he presses her back down. "No. What do you need?" he asks.

"I want to see your face …"

She lies back down, wincing at the stabbing pain in her chest and side and he reaches over and lights the small lamp beside her sleeping pallet. She looks up into his face, the flickering light of the flame casting shadows across his strong features. 

"Who fixed up your wounds?" she asks him.

"Mother and the Dag did before they'd let me come in … said I looked a fright."

Before he thinks about it too much, he kicks off his boots and gets up onto her bed with her, pulling her against him. She stiffens for a moment, her response automatic and ingrained from years of peril and mistreatment. Then she finds herself relaxing despite herself. It seems impossible to believe, but this brute of a man has managed to creep past her long-held defences.

"Sleep. I'll keep the nightmares away," he promises her and she snorts sceptically.

"How? Get inside my head?" she demands.

Nonetheless, she allows herself to lean against his body. He's clean now … the smell of dirt and sweat washed from his body and all she can smell is Max. 

She tells him of the plans for the Citadel. "It's wasteful to simply pour the water down the rock face like that. We are going to pipe it down – there will be enough water for everyone without wastage. We are sending scouts to explore how much water there is in the Aqua Cola … how much water there is elsewhere as well."

She tells him of how they are dismantling the 'dungeon' with the iron cages that imprison 'blood bags' and other prisoners who are harvested in a variety of gruesome ways.

There will be elections soon in which the War Boys, the Repair Boys and the Wretched will all vote for a representative on a Council who will assist Furiosa, Capable, Toast, Cheedo, the Dag, Mother and Sal in ruling over the Citadel.

Finally the tension leaves her body and she finds herself relaxing – an uncommon sensation that she has not felt in many years.

"Why did you leave?" she asks him.

"You know why."

"There's a place for you here …"

He closes his eyes for a moment. There are too many voices in his head, too many faces and memories… he needs to be alone in the Wilderness, alone with his nightmares. It's his retribution.

"We could do with your help," she tells him. " _I_ could do with your help," she corrects herself.

"I'll stay for a few days," is all he can promise and he watches as she falls asleep. It's the first time since their return that she passes a dreamless sleep without nightmares.

When she's asleep, Max extinguishes the lamp and after a moment's hesitation, he pulls the blanket up over the both of them and allows himself to fall asleep as well. 

*

Three more transfusions later and Furiosa is clearly on the mend.

"Must be all that high octane blood," she remarks as she walks through the hallways of the Citadel with a cane.

"You'll end up as mad as me," Max warns her.

"Already am," she tells him. The scratches and bruises are fading, her eye is opening up again slowly and he can see her strength returning.

Before he can even think of leaving again, they put him to work.

They've already liberated the unfortunate "blood bags" and slaves who have been incarcerated under Immortan Joe's rule. They are fed, given medical treatment and told that they may stay or leave as they wish. Many choose to stay and help to build a new society. Max, a former blood bag himself finds it quite satisfying to tear down the symbols of the old regime.

The cages are melted down and under Max's supervision converted into pipes and taps that can be used to share the water with the Wretched.

"We need a new name for them," the Dag remarks.

"What does it matter? It's just a name," Toast points out curiously.

"Names have power," the Dag tells her. 

So all who wish to remain are now the "Citizens", each finding his or her own way to contribute to the community as a whole.

"But what of us?" The War Boys ask, at loss without their leader and now at risk of death given that their source of blood is gone.

Volunteers come forward with offers of blood donations. Then they discover that there is actually a treatment for the radiation sickness that Immortan Joe had chosen not to share – having an army of terminally ill youths with nothing to lose clearly suited his purposes. The women go among the young men to treat them – overcoming their initial suspicion and wariness.

"Imperator Furiosa – tell me - am I awaited?" a young boy gasps, his eyes wide and frightened as he stares into Furiosa's eyes with terror. "I don't want to die…" he tells her, tears streaming from his eyes piteously.

Although they are able to treat many of the boys, they are too late for many of the others who are at the end of their Half Lives. The sickness that ravages their bodies wracks them with pain and delusions and it takes all the skills of those who nurse them to keep them in their beds and in relative comfort.

"He's afraid. Comfort him," the Mother hisses at her and Furiosa stares at her disbelievingly as the young man who is no more than a child weeps and cries for a mother he barely remembers.

Furiosa shakes her head. She will not perpetuate the filthy lies created by Immortan Joe. She stiffens when she hears Max speak.

"You are awaited," Max crouches on the ground beside the dying War Boy, his voice firm and calm. Furiosa stares at him accusingly, her eyes narrowing, shaking her head as if to say, no, no _no_. Her eyes blaze with unshed tears of rage as she also crouches beside the young boy.

"Tell me there is more than this life, Imperator," he begs her, clutching at her hand and staring into her eyes wildly. His breath is ragged, wheezing from lungs that can barely sustain him. His body is thin and brittle, wraith-like.

Furiosa swallows hard and touches his brow lightly with her hand. "You will ride eternal, shiny and chrome," she tells him softly. "Eternal on the highways of Valhalla…"

A beatific smile spreads across the boy's face and he looks almost elated … "Witness me," he breathes and the life leaves his eyes.

"Witnessed," Furiosa replies, revulsion rising up inside of her as she staggers to her feet and runs from the hospital chamber down the hall to the bathing chamber.

Max catches up with her as she is throwing up violently. He holds her firmly as she retches, his face grim. "Let go of me," she orders and he releases her and holds his hands up calmly, reassuringly. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, rinses and spits before straightening.

"What you did back there was kind," he tells her.

"What I did back there was lie," she bites out. "There is no Valhalla, there is nothing except _this_ …" she tells him, gesturing around her. "I will not use that evil man's words to further manipulate and control these people."

"He was afraid – you took away that fear."

"I believe that this life is the only life we have to live …" she tells him softly. "When we die, there is nothing."

"Then let's make this life one that's worthwhile," he tells her gently. "You can bring hope to these people in the same way you gave that boy peace …"

"So you'll stay for a little longer- to help give these people hope?" she asks him questioningly. He takes a step forward and puts his arms around her lightly, resting his forehead against hers as they hold to one another.

His hands reach up to cup her head as they remain brow to brow, not moving, not speaking. Finally he exhales.

"I'll stay … just a little longer …"

"Mediocre," Furiosa breathes and she discovers to her profound shock and amazement that she has learned to smile again.


	3. Another Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max stayed and now he goes again. This is the last of my 'foundation' chapters. The rest will be in response to various prompts but based on the foundation I've already outlined in these three chapters.

The War Pups are pathetically easy to win over … younger, less hardened and bitter they welcome a gentler leader who actually cares about them.

"Like being followed by ducklings," Max mumbles, looking disconcerted as dozens of young boys follow him worshipfully, following his every order and hanging onto his every word as he directs their work. When the young girls start to become integrated into the previous male-only groups, things become even more chaotic.

Change is never easy and the transition from the old regime to a new way of life is difficult for everyone. The Milkers are initially a little offended to have their duties removed from them – their duties have given them a degree of status and luxury that had been denied to the Wretched but there is no longer any desire to harvest breast milk from women and so their work is done. They find themselves drawn to other work streams – farming, nursing, teaching, cooking, building, mechanics, defence … 

Max is then sent to the ground below the Citadel helping to construct shelters when the Dag comes up to stand beside him, her belly starting to swell, showing the life that is growing within.

"So you'll stay?" she asks him curiously and he shrugs.

"A few more days ... we need these shelters built," he tells her briefly and she smiles knowingly. She now calls herself Dag, Keeper of the Seeds in honour of the Vuvalini who had been killed during the journey back to the Citadel. Together with a group of Citizens comprised of former Wretched, War Boys and War Pups, she is studying the land around the Citadel with a view to farming the land.

"There's dryland farming, that captures the moisture that's in the earth until you plant crops to safeguard it," she tells him and he looks at her, an eyebrow raised. Agriculture is not his forte. "You sound like you know what you're doing …" and she gives a nod.

She sends him and a group of people to till and plough the earth to the West of the Citadel, determined to test a variety of techniques until she finds one that will yield the most crops.

Then the Mother sets him to work on building an infirmary to treat the worst of the War Boys whose illness is beyond their ability to treat. He works hard, he is no stranger to manual labour and he does a good job. At the end of the day, he studies the results of his work with satisfaction.

Furiosa comes up to stand beside him as he is instructing some War Pups and other children on how to craft the medical implements needed by the infirmary. The children watch closely, eyes huge and filled with fascination and Furiosa finds herself smiling despite herself at his calm patience.

"The work is proceeding well," she comments and he nods straightens, getting up from the floor with an effort, a little stiff from sitting on the hard floor with the children. "You look well," he tells her. The bruises and cuts are almost gone and she walks without the aid of a cane.

She shrugs and his gaze drops to the stump of her left arm that seems oddly naked without the prosthetic. "Do you want me to make you a new one?" he asks her without thinking and she says yes, knowing that it will keep him around longer and as the days pass, she sees him in the workshops with the Repair Boys with Capable, tinkering over what she assumes is her new prosthetic.

It wasn't her intention to assume the mantle of leadership – it's not what she has ever wanted but somehow, she has become the _de facto_ leader. She consults, she takes counsel from others but she makes the final decisions – which makes her the leader.

The Repair Boys and the War Boys still work hard on the vehicles and the tools of war. They will need to defend themselves from other tribes so the war machine must continue even without Immortan Joe. 

"Don't give him a vehicle, he'll just leave," Toast warns her when she hears Furiosa offering Max his pick of the cars in the workshop.

"If he wants to leave, we can't stop him," she tells the younger woman, stroking Toast's dark hair that she is finally permitting to grow out again.

"It could damn well slow him down, though," Toast mutters beneath her breath and Furiosa smiles, hooking her arm through Toast's as they walk through the Citadel. The younger woman has proven to have a talent for arms and she and other young women have joined the ranks of the War Boys – this time to defend rather than invade.

The War Boys shed their white powder and feverish chants with reluctance but end up embracing their new uniforms and new identity. "Schooling? What need have we of schooling in Valhalla?" they demand when they are told that all must attend reading classes.

"Our Furiosa commands," they are told by Cheedo the Strong and they sink to the ground reverently whenever she walks past despite Furiosa's efforts to make them rise to their feet. She does not approve of their worship and it makes her uncomfortable.

"They need a leader, let them have that," the Mother tells her and so she tolerates their adulation. 

"You, too?"Furiosa demands, in exasperation of Cheedo who has shorn her long, dark locks off, her hair cropped short in a boyish cut identical to Furiosa's own and wearing trousers instead of a dress. Many of the young girls in the citizenry have taken to emulating Furiosa's short hair, much to Max's amusement.

"Keeps the lice away," he remarks with a shrug, scratching at his own short hair reminiscently.

Cheedo demands that Furiosa teaches her how to fight and before long, she is teaching all of the girls to fight. When she's too busy or tired to do it, Furiosa sends Max to teach in her place.

"Aren't you afraid of letting them be taught by a Fool?" he asks her.

"Best fighter I know," she tells him bluntly. He raises an eyebrow at her quizzically but doesn't argue.

Then the boys want to learn, too so before they know it, both Furiosa and Max find themselves teaching fighting classes. They also teach the boys, the girls and anyone who wants to learn how to shoot.

They pick the largest of the caverns for the fight training. Only those who no longer suffer the night fevers are permitted to participate. The sick are required to continue treatment until they are given the all clear but once they're well, it's impossible to stop them attending the classes – classes that are embraced more enthusiastically than the reading and writing classes.

Months go by and Max is still at the Citadel. They consult with him in relation to all number of matters. He is constantly being sent here and there on various tasks and missions. He attends their Counsel meetings and gives a view if asked. Everyone notices that he is frequently at Furiosa's side, conferring with her, discussing things with her.

Nonetheless, he says that he'll be leaving again as soon as things are up and running again, as soon as she doesn't need him anymore. Furiosa makes him promise that he'll never leave without saying goodbye and she assumes that his grunt in response is his version of agreement. 

He has chambers in the Citadel, down the hall from hers. She calls them the guest chambers to appease him but everyone else refers to them as Max's chambers. While part of him would prefer to sleep out in the open or even in one of the shacks at the base of the Citadel, he finds himself using the chambers – to remain close.

"Giving blood again," she comments one morning, reaching out to touch the bandage on his strong arm. He nods and she stares at him steadily. He falls into step beside her and they walk to the edge of the corridor. The two of them stare out at the surrounding area and she studies Gas Town and the Bullet Farm narrowly. 

"Can't keep ignoring them," he remarks and she nods in acknowledgment. There is no doubt in her mind that mischief is brewing in the towns that were former allies of Immortan Joe.

She sends the Mother, accompanied by a dozen War Boys and Max himself to negotiate a treaty with Gas Town and the Bullet Farm. It's not a day too soon. When they return, they tell tales that the other two cities of the Triumvirate had been planning for war.

"They know the Citadel is defended," is all Max will say and she stares at the flares shot into the sky by Bullet Farm and Gas Town that confirm their allegiance to the new leader of the Citadel.

"Did he kill anyone?" she demands of the Mother who just gives a slow smile, the creases in her face deepening.

"They know that the Citadel – and our Furiosa are defended," is all she will say and Furiosa frowns.

Finally, he announces that he's going to leave again. This time she can tell that he means it. She doesn't try to dissuade him from his planned departure. She orders the Repair Boys to fill his Marauder with guzzoline, load the boot with supplies, water and weapons. "Fire a green flare and we will come and get you," she tells him as she walks with him to the Marauder.

"Same," he tells her briefly and she raises an eyebrow. "You would come when called?" she asks and he nods. 

"Yes."

The Mother's already given him a piece of her mind. "Idiot man," she scolds him severely. "Your place is here – not gallivanting off to god knows where."

He stares at her for a long moment. He doesn't answer to her and he doesn't need to explain himself. "Capable is having nightmares. She can't sleep. She wants me to find Nux and bury him."

The Mother exchanges glances with Sal. They often dream of their lost sisters and their sleep is fitful, haunted with the voices of the many dead.

"If you find their bodies …"

"I will bury them," he promises.

"Why not tell Furiosa - ?"

"She would want to come, too and her place is here." He gives a brief smile. "Besides, I travel better alone."

Thus, Cheedo, the Dag and Toast farewell him that morning – a little teary and very miserable. In contrast, the Mother, Sal and Capable are grim and dry-eyed. Capable in particular looks calm. Pale, but very calm and steady-eyed. "Find him for me," she whispers as she puts her arms around him. He tries hard not to flinch. Like Furiosa, he still finds the touch of another human being a little unsettling.

Finally it's just Furiosa and her gaze is shuttered and cool. "Goodbye," he tells her inadequately and she inclines her head and watches him drive away into the distance.

"He'll be back," Capable promises her, coming up to stand beside her and slide her arm cautiously around the older woman's waist.

"What makes you say that?" Furiosa asks her curiously.

"Just 'cause," Capable shrugs, her vivid red hair contrasting sharply with her pale face.

"He will always come back to you," the Dag tells her, coming up to stand on the other side of her, sliding her arm around her waist as well. Toast and Cheedo come up, too and the five women stand watching Max's car drive away into the distance until it vanishes from sight.


End file.
